The Curse of Danny Lee's Bones

I recently wrote a post dedicated to the fact that I lost the key to the four wheeler. I think that it is now time for me to give you the whole truth. I have dubbed my recent streak of weirdness "The Curse of Danny Lee's Bones."

To begin with, I should probably tell you who Danny Lee is...or was. Danny Lee was a stud horse owned by a friend of mine. His commenter name on here is "DeadCoyote". How appropriate. Anyway, Danny Lee developed a, shall we say, growth on his part that makes him a stud horse. It was a rather large tumor, actually. It was a sad sight to behold. Truthfully, it got so bad that people who saw Danny Lee from the road would call DeadCoyote and ask him what was wrong with his horse.

When it became clear that Danny Lee could not be cured, DeadCoyote did the responsible horse thing. He tied Danny Lee up and put him down. Actually, I think that Danny Lee had also gotten into a barbed wire fence and torn up his leg pretty badly. Whatever the case, Danny Lee was put down for the long dirt nap.

At the present time, Danny Lee is a pile of bones in the pasture. One day while cutting wood, I happened across Danny Lee's bones. I thought it would be funny to put his hips on my head like a helmet and walk around like some deranged Uruk-Hai. It was pretty funny. Me and the DeadCoyote got a good laugh at Danny Lee's expense. Later that day, I lost my sunglasses that I bought in India. I joked to the DeadCoyote that I had been cursed by Danny Lee's bones. We laughed.

I'm not laughing now. Since that day I have lost my sunglasses, four-wheeler key, some very nice Pentax binoculars, shot an eight point buck that's horn spread was 1/2 under club regulations, lost my cell phone, and missed a monster deer that looked like BullWinkle...twice.

This morning, my kitchen flooded. It flooded because we have a ten pound rat running around the house chewing through walls, wiring, plumbing, and anything else he can get his teeth on. He cannot be fooled by traps or poison. He's like Mighty Mouse on steroids. We can hear the beast running through the attic and the walls both day and night...taunting us. My wife is ready to move out. I may set up a ground blind in the kitchen and spotlight for him with my pellet gun tonight. It'll be like The Ghost and the Darkness only it'll be man versus rat instead of man versus lion. You laugh, but this is one scary rodent. I am certain that if I miss he will attempt to go for the jugular. It'll be like the scene from the end of Watership Down where the big bad rabbit lunges for the dog and the dog lunges for the rabbit. That was also one scary rodent.

Of course, I do not believe in the rubbish of curses from the bones of a dead horse, or even bad luck. DeadCoyote says that he doesn't believe in it either, but he's been acting weird around me ever since he accidentally fired his muzzleloader with the ramrod still in the barrel. That was yesterday, and his nose is still swelled from the impact of the scope busting him in the face. He mumbled something about me rubbing off on him; I told him that he was the idiot that shot Danny Lee. Maybe he was rubbing off on me. But then, we don't believe in bad luck and curses, right?